Starstruck
by Shanblue
Summary: Tired, overworked editor Iwaizumi Hajime thought his day couldn't get any more chaotic; until famous celebrity Oikawa Tooru came bursting through his front door, looking for a place to hide from his crazy fans. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

Iwaizumi Hajime sat hunched over his desk, angrily scratcIwaizumi Hajime sat hunched over his desk, angrily scratching out words on a thick stack of papers- his work for today. Not only had he received twice the amount of work as usual, but the author had left stupid, silly mistakes for him to clean up. This was not worth his time. At the sight of another misspelled word, he threw down his pen in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. At this rate he was going to get another headache.

His work as an editor had never been easy, but with the addition of a new inexperienced author his workload went through the roof. It wouldn't have bothered him too much, but this new author repeatedly made the same mistakes and didn't even seem slightly remorseful. He sighed. Mulling over it wasn't going to fix his problems.

With a grunt he pulled himself out of his desk chair, rolling his stiff shoulders and cracking his back. Usually his time out of the office was spent relaxing or hanging out with friends, but that obviously wasn't going to happen today. His usually peaceful evening was being spent at his home office, doing the work that he hadn't been able to complete during work hours.

With a quick glance at the clock, Iwaizumi decided now would be an okay time for a break and he headed over to his kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. He would be needing it tonight. After preparing the pot he sank down onto his worn, plush couch he had found at a garage sale cheap and grabbed the remote. As he sipped at his coffee he flipped through the channels, letting his mind drift over conversations he'd had at the office today. He squeezed his eyes shut as a short burst of pain shot through his head. No more thinking about work.

He finally settled on a cooking channel, trying not to be discouraged by his lack of culinary skills. He felt a bit jealous of the people on TV who got to sample all of that delicious food while he was stuck drinking crappy instant coffee in his tiny house trying not to have an anxiety attack over work. He bitterly switched channels again out of petty jealousy and stopped on some celebrity interview. Oikawa Tooru, a famous actor, was flashing his friendly smile to the camera and answering the prying questions with an air of confidence and no hesitation. Iwaizumi would never be able to do that. Ugh. He flipped the TV off with a sigh. Nothing relaxed him these days.

The tired man rolled over onto his stomach to relieve his tired back muscles of the burden- or he was going to roll over onto his stomach- when a series of loud bangs on his front door sent him to his feet in an instant. He grabbed a lamp out of instinct and ignored the sparks that shot out of the socket when he pulled the cord out of the wall. He could worry about that later. He approached the front door slowly, his muscles tensing as he prepared for an attack. He heard muffled, panicked shouts from outside and his heart jumped. The absolute worst thing that could happen was a murderer trying to come in and kill him (not that he was too put off by the idea at this point), but he doubted that was the case in his nice neighborhood, so he forced himself to relax. He thought he heard the panicked word 'hurry' and peeped through the door's window. The guy looked clean-cut enough. With a sigh he unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a frightened man who looked oddly familiar. He could worry about that later though.

"Shut the door!" The man shouted, but he didn't wait for Iwaizumi to move, taking it upon himself to shut the door. He also locked it, and secured the old-fashioned chain lock that was more for looks than actual use.

The taller man huffed out a breath of relief before leaning against the door and sliding slowly to the ground, droplets of sweat rolling down his gorgeous body. Iwaizumi shook his head at that thought. And then it clicked- the reason he felt a vague tugging of recognition when he first laid eyes on this attractive man. He did know this man. This was Oikawa Tooru. Iwaizumi decidedly ignored the startled pumping of his heart as he processed this information, instead opting to question exactly why the oh-so-famous Oikawa Tooru decided to drop by.

Before he could, though, Oikawa spoke up. "You might wanna put that down. I feel slightly threatened." There was an amused glint in his eye that made Iwaizumi inadvertently blush before his gaze travelled to the lamp in his hand.

Without thinking, Iwaizumi snapped. "How about you don't order me around in my own home? I will kick you out right now if you don't behave." He stalked over to the coffee table, replacing the now useless lamp and collapsed into the couch. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." His pulse was finally beginning to slow down but he was still ticked. "Care to explain why you just barged into my house?" He couldn't help the mean bite in his words.

The other man drawled out a slow, almost confused response. "You do know who I am, right?"

A vein flared in Iwaizumi's forehead. "Yes, I know who you are. Do I need to rephrase the question to suit your highness's delicate ears?"

A small pout appeared on the celebrity's face. "I was being chased by a mob of fans and your house was the first one I passed." At the look of annoyance that flickered on Iwaizumi's face, Oikawa defended himself. "I was in actual danger! I swear!"

The shorter man nodded slowly. "And if my door gets torn down by crazy fangirls...?"

His response was immediate. "My company or I will pay for the expenses, of course. Just let me hide in her until my manager arrives... Please?" he nearly begged.

A small sigh left the black haired man's mouth, before he nodded more surely this time and gestured to the couch. "Would you like some tea?"

A small smirk appeared on Oikawa's face and he nodded. "I would love some tea."

At his cocky response, Iwaizumi shot out of his seat and had to physically restrain himself from punching the guy in the face. "On second thought, you can make your own damn tea."

"Aw, don't be cruel!" The star whined, letting his soft lower lip pout.

"Shut up. If you distract me from my work I'll punch you." Iwaizumi said gruffly, stalking out of the room before he could do any more damage. He wouldn't be surprised if Oikawa sued him by the end of this encounter.

He tried to focus in on his work again, but he couldn't help thinking about the unfairly attractive man in the other room. The initial shock had worn off but he was still left dazed. He had seen the other man before on many TV shows and in a few movies; Iwaizumi knew he was no stranger to the red carpet. This man was the real deal. And he was in Iwaizumi's house. He didn't know if he was angry over how self-entitled the man seemed, or how easily he made his heart stutter.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he looked up from his work to see a smiling Oikawa peering through the doorway.

"What."

"Would you tell me your name?" He asked in a bubbly, high-pitched voice.

"Why?"

"Well, you know mine, right? It's only fair..." He rubbed the back of his head, a shy smile on his face.

The editor grunted. "I guess so. I'm Iwaizumi Hajime."

Oikawa brought a long finger up to his chin and tapped it, his eyes travelling to the ceiling as if deep in thought. "So Iwa-chan!" He concluded.

"No!" Iwaizumi nearly shouted, pushing his chair back to stand up and slam his palms on the table.

The celebrity fled from the room giggling. "Ahh so scary, Iwa-chan!" His airy voice sighed as he retreated.

"Ugh." Iwaizumi wasn't used to getting so worked up over someone. He sat back down, trying to calm the angry stutter of his pulse with slow breathes.

He picked up his pen again and scribbled out corrections to some of the easy to spot mistakes. Does this author even proofread? He groaned.

Just then, a savory smell wafted into the room and he inhaled deeply, sighing in delight. He missed days when his mother would make him dinner and he would simply have to come to eat when she called for him. Wait. What? The black haired man shot out of his seat and rushed towards the kitchen, whipping Oikawa around from where he crouched over a cutting board. Oops. Oikawa cried out, knife clattering from his hand while he cradled a new cut on his other hand.

"Dude. What are you doing in my kitchen?" The shorter man gritted out.

The star pouted for a second, then grimaced in pain, wincing. "Well I wanted to make you dinner as thanks for letting me hide out here!" His defense was airy and annoying.

Iwaizumi let his gaze travel over the kitchen. There was a pan with some sizzling vegetables on the stove that was letting out the aroma he had smelled in his office, and a cutting board sat on the counter with a raw chicken half cut.

"Where did you even get that?"

Oikawa giggled despite the pain in his hand. "Heh heh, I have connections..."

Iwaizumi returned his gaze to the celebrity. "Then why didn't you use those connections to get out of here?!" His voice rose as he spoke.

A small blush appeared on Oikawa's cheeks. "I lied... it was in your fridge."

Iwaizumi slapped a palm across his own face in exasperation. "Why would you lie about that?" He muttered to himself. "Anyway, let me see your hand."

The taller man reluctantly gave Iwaizumi his hand and he inspected it. Without warning Iwaizumi pulled the other man by his hand into the bathroom. "Sit down on the toilet." He ordered.

Oikawa complied, and cried out when the other man wiped alcohol over the incision. He wrapped a soft bandage around the cut and Oikawa immediately pulled his hand back defensively, as if bracing himself for another attack.

"Sorry about that. I didn't realize you were cutting something." Iwaizumi admitted, a small blush flitting over his cheeks.

Oikawa smiled. "It's all better now. You're so nice, Iwa-chan!"

"How am I being nice at all?" He retorted in a dry tone.

Oikawa shook his head. "You're nice in a different way."

He cocked his head as if to say 'Well, go on then, explain'.

"I don't know..." He blushed a little. "You treat me like an actual person?"

"As opposed to what?" He raised an eyebrow.

The celebrity's blush deepened and he shook his head quickly. "Never mind, it's nothing!"

The crease behind his eyebrows deepened. "Okay?"

The smell of burning food distracted them both. "Shit! Iwa-chan, you didn't turn off the stove!" It sounded odd, Iwaizumi noted, for such a bubbly, childish voice to shout out profanities.

"How is this my fault? You turned it on in the first place!" He bellowed.

They rushed back into the kitchen and turned off the stove. "I worked so hard on it..." Oikawa whimpered.

Somehow, a faint glimmer of sympathy worked it's way into Iwaizumi's chest. "It's not too badly burned. We can still eat it."

Oikawa's eyes brightened. "Really?"

He hesitated after another glance revealed that the veggies were completely charred. "Yeah..."

The star cheered and he pulled some plates out the drawer above Iwa's head.

"How the hell do you know my kitchen so well?" The shorter man grumbled, making his way toward the table.

"I was bored! I needed to explore..." Oikawa whined defensively. "I didn't have anything to do and you just left me alone!"

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. "Do you ever stop complaining?"

What was he saying? He was being a total hypocrite, given he had been complaining to himself since he got home from work. He decided not to mention that to Oikawa though.

The celebrity was scooping black veggie onto their two plates and he set one of the plates in front of the shorter man's seat. He reluctantly picked up a fork and stabbed at the gross food on his plate, not sure how to go about eating this without puking it all up.

Oikawa seemed to be having the same internal struggle, poking at his food and watching little charred crisps flake off of the food with each prod.

"Itadakimasu." Iwaizumi clapped his hands together and picked up the veggie in his fork. He shoved it into his mouth before he could stop himself and watched as the Oikawa's eyes widened in amazement. He forced himself to chew, slowly, and then swallowed.

The celebrity seemed to take this as a challenge and shoveled all the food into his mouth in fast procession until it was gone. Iwaizumi watched in amusement.

"Yum! Now let me wash the dishes!" He offered.

The shorter man shook his head, jaw set. "Not trusting you with that after this disaster." He gestured to the gross food still laying on his plate.

Oikawa pouted but said nothing, allowing Iwaizumi to take up his plate and rinse it off in the sink before placing it in the dishwasher.

Not soon after the dishes were cleaned, they were sitting on the plump couch watching some quiz show when the doorbell rang. Iwaizumi pushed himself to his feet with a sigh and opened the door (after unlocking the many layers of locks the other man had set in place) to reveal a short woman in a suit.

"Hello. Is Oikawa Tooru currently residing at this address?" Her voice was professional and coy.

Remembering the mob of fans chasing Oikawa, he decided to proceed with caution. "Who are you?"

Before she could respond, said celebrity came up behind him and greeted the lady casually. "Hey there, Noriko-san!"

Her gaze honed in on the man and she narrowed her eyes. He flinched back but said nothing more.

"I am this man's manager. He seems to have caused you trouble. Do you have any complaints, sir? We would like to settle them now rather than later. As you know, if you make any public statements it could give Oikawa-san a bad name."

His eyes widened at her suggestion but he replied calmly. "I have nothing to complain about, nor will I make any public complaints. Would you like to come in for a moment, anyway?"

She nodded, looking satisfied with his answer. After considering for a moment, she stepped inside and closed the door behind herself. "If any news outlets or interviewers approach you, we ask that you either refuse to answer their questions or keep your answers vague. The media can fabricate a story out of nothing, and since Oikawa-san is having a spike in popularity lately we can't let anything taint his name."

Iwaizumi nodded slowly. This was going to be more trouble than he first thought. He glanced over at Oikawa. He was sitting next to his manager, eyes in his lap and his twiddling thumbs gave away his discomfort.

She addressed Oikawa. "You have paparazzi waiting for you outside." Oikawa sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you have a scarf?" Oikawa shook his head.

"I see you brought my hoodie though. That will work." The celebrity supplied.

She nodded and handed it to him. Iwaizumi tried to ignore the way his muscles flexed as he pulled it over his head, and the way his shirt lifted up to reveal a strip of pale skin. The hood covered his hair and the manager gave him some sunglasses to wear.

'We apologize profusely for any trouble this may have caused. If you're being harassed by anyone, please call this number and our company can sort it out for you."

He accepted the piece of paper the woman handed him and tucked it away and his pocket. He doubted he would ever use it.

"What should I tell them?" Oikawa finally spoke to his manager.

She sighed, her eyes narrowing at him again. "Why did you have to go out in public again? Sunglasses can only do so much, you know. You've caused a lot of trouble for the company today..." She contemplated for a moment. "I think ignoring them is the best way to go for today. Just get to the car as fast as you can." Oikawa nodded and stood up. He took a few deep breaths before he opened the door. Two very muscular guards stood on either side of the door and police held back a mob of cameramen and screaming fans. Oikawa turned back toward the other man and gave a small, apologetic, almost sad looking smile before he strode outside, closely flanked by the body guards. His manager followed close behind. Iwaizumi almost started at the large crescendo that him stepping out of the room brought to the crowd. Flashing lights blinded him and there was so much shouting that Iwaizumi couldn't pick out a single word the interviewers were shouting toward the celebrity. Oikawa walked quickly with his head down and a guard left his side to push an excited man who chased the star back into the mob of people. Iwaizumi's eyes were wide. Who knew simply walking outside could be so chaotic for some people?

He slammed the door when he saw a cameraman walking toward him, cursing to himself. He locked the door, and despite how much it amused him when Oikawa did it, slid the chain lock shut too.

He fled to his office but the noise was audible through the thin walls of his house. He hoped his neighbors would forgive him. He sighed, finally giving up on getting his work done and pulled all the blinds shut. The noise faded after about an hour and he could finally relax, but it still haunted him. What if those people came back looking for the celebrity and broke into his house? What if somebody got jealous and attacked him? And with a start, he realized that the fears running through his head probably ran through that seemingly-naive celebrity's head every second of every single day. Who would ever want to be that famous?

Feeling restless, he headed towards his kitchen to get a bowl of icecream and turned the TV on to flip to the local news channel.

"...and we were lucky enough to get an interview with the man himself! Here is Jan, live at the station interviewing the one and the only Oikawa Tooru!"

Iwaizumi's head snapped up. What the hell. Why was this guy popping up everywhere? But he couldn't help but watch. The camera zoomed in on Oikawa who looked relaxed and serene, as if today never happened.

"It's amazing to meet you, Oikawa-san. We are delighted you accepted our interview." The lady, (Jan, was it?) gushed.

"It's a pleasure to be here." Oikawa replied smoothly.

"I guess we will start off with the big question that all your fans are dying to know. We've all read about it in the fan magazines. Are you and Kiyoko Shimizu really a thing?"

Iwaizumi saw Oikawa's eyes widen for a fraction of a second and look off to the side of the camera before he spoke, immediately regaining his cool. "I'm afraid I cannot comment on that."

Iwaizumi had heard that name before. He didn't care enough right now to look her up.

"Ooh, sounds suspicious to me..." The interviewer giggled.

Oikawa gave her a flirtatious smile. "How about another question?"

Iwaizumi snickered. That seemed like a subtle 'It's none of your damn business' to him.

"We always see you surrounded by screaming girls at all the award shows. How are you able to weed out those attentions and see which girls like you for you?"

The celebrity thought for a moment. "You can kind of just tell. Most of the time. You can tell when someone is treating you like they would treat anybody else and not holding you on some sort of pedestal."

The interviewer nodded. "That's very thoughtful. When the fame gets to be too much, who do you call?"

"I don't call anyone. I signed up for this and I feel that I need to enjoy what I can and not dwell on that bad stuff. Many people dream of having the fame that I do. I'm truly blessed." A smiled graced the attractive man's lips before he looked slightly off camera again. He raised his eyebrows and then nodded. "It looks like we need to wrap up this interview. Thank you for having me in." He stood up and quickly walked away from the set. The camera followed him and TV watchers could see him being escorted quickly out the door by his manager and a set of guards. Dejavu.

"He's pretty famous, isn't he..." Iwaizumi mumbled to himself. He flipped off the TV and went to the freezer for the bowl of ice cream he had been craving. He wasn't sure why the flavor didn't feel as enticing as usual. He also wasn't sure why his heart was still stuttering hours after the excitement of the incident ended.

* * *

HI! I'm Shannon. Thanks for reading.

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Review and make my day!


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since that crazy chance incident with Oikawa Tooru, life had returned to normal for Iwaizumi. He was worked to the bone by his authors, stressed yet enjoying work, and there was an apparent lack of celebrity barge-ins. It was odd, really, how his life changed so quickly and yet didn't change at all. He wasn't necessarily disappointed, persay, just a bit surprised at the lack of commotion surrounding the incident. It had been several weeks since it had happened, and it was honestly at the back of his mind now. He was trying so hard to forget about it. And it was beginning to work.

He sipped at his coffee slowly, letting the bitter taste wash over his mouth as he thought over a message he had just received on his phone. He had been invited out drinking with his coworkers, and he was trying to think of a good excuse to say no. There was no reason he couldn't go and yet he didn't want to. He never enjoyed loud meetings such as those. He much preferred the atmosphere of a coffeeshop compared to an outing at a bar. Plus alcohol gave him horrible migraines. Even if he wasn't hung over, he would still get a headache. It was the worst. He decided to use honesty as his excuse, and informed his coworker politely that he didn't mix with alcohol well. He would let them interpret that as they would.

He put down his phone with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. Where was Daichi when he needed him to get him out of these situations? He shut his eyes before the ceiling light could burn a spot into them and tried to relax his body. He had read somewhere that focusing on relaxing all the body's muscles could release stress and tension. Maybe he needed to get out of his house. He was supposedly on break today, yet he couldn't get his mind out of the endless pages of narrative he had yet to look over.

He decided that yes, he would go on a walk, and pushed up from his chair to make himself presentable, his coffee forgotten. He prided himself in his appearance and even for exercising he liked to look his best. He pulled some black clothes out of his drawers without really looking at them; all black matched, after all. Then he went to the bathroom with his clothes in hand to change and double check his appearance. It was a weird habit of his to always change in the bathroom, despite the fact that he lived alone. He stripped of his night clothes, which was a tshirt and boxers and quickly threw on the new outfit before leaning into the mirror above the sink. It was a huge mirror that he prided himself in. It spanned the entire bathroom wall and it didn't have borders. That addition to his bathroom had been one of the most exciting moments of his life. He felt so powerful when he hung it on the wall, staring back at himself in the clean reflection. The mirror was spotless and beautiful. Maybe that mirror was the reason he changed in the bathroom. Maybe he should buy one for his bedroom, too.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at himself. He had just gotten lost in thought over his bathroom mirror, and it wasn't the first time it happened. With a sweep of his fingers through his hair, he considered himself ready for the outside world. He put his glasses on the sink and left the room, grabbing his hoodie from a hook in the hallway. He was going to need that. For now, though, he tied it around his waist and finally grabbed his key and opened up his door...

To run right into a heavy-set lady carrying a clip-board and some sort of taping device. He backed up quickly and uttered an apology, but she interrupted him.

"We heard you recently came into contact with Oikawa Tooru. On behalf of my company, I would like to request a formal inter-"

Iwaizumi quickly cut in, remembering Oikawa's manager's advice. "Sorry, I'm not interested in answering questions."

He walked forward so she had to back up from his door and turned away from her to lock up his apartment. He wasn't going to trust this shady woman with an open apartment. Interviewers had always rubbed him the wrong way, and this one was just as bad as the others, if not worse. He could just tell.

"Just a few words is all we need from you!" She spoke up again to Iwaizumi's back.

He clenched his jaw tight to avoid snapping at her, and when he collected himself he turned around slowly with a long breath out his nose.

"No thank you."

And then he left. He walked down the balcony steps quickly, trying to lose the lady before she could talk to him again. He was nearly jogging as he neared the ground level and a glance behind him revealed that she was out of breath and struggling to catch up. Good. He finally slowed his pace and while she panted with her hands on her knees halfway down the long flight of stairs he took cover behind a large bush at the front of the property. He kneeled there as he regained his breath and watched her slowly descend, leaning against the railing and muttering profanities to herself. After a slow glance around the near-empty parking lot she got into her van and drove away slowly, eyeing her surroundings as she departed. Only after 5 long minutes of silence did he allow himself to clamber out from behind the bush, and he shuddered and brushed off spiderwebs from his body. He had never wanted to be that close with nature.

Maybe today wasn't the best day to go for a walk after all. He gazed longingly at the dew covered grass that he could be walking over and headed back to his apartment, preparing himself for a long day inside of doing nothing and trying to relax himself.

* * *

The next time he encountered the interviewer was on his next work day. He had decided to bike to work that day, since it was good for the environment and only required that he leave 30 minutes earlier than usual. And when he pulled into the large company building and prepared to get his bike locked into the stand, a man approached him. He didn't recognize the man so he gave him a polite smile with every intention of avoiding small talk and getting into the building without incident. That, of course, was not possible. Because then he noticed the lady from a few days prior on the guy's heel. She had a dry smile on her face and the guy in front of her had his arms crossed in an almost intimidating manner. He may even have been intimidated, but because he frequently worked out and prided himself in a healthy diet, he was quite well built himself. It gave him the boost of confidence he needed in these situations.

"Do you need something?" He finally asked the guy after about a 30 second stare down. That he was not interested in continuing. He had things to do, after all.

The guy nodded, narrowing his eyes a bit. "We want to know about your encounter with the young star you met. Care to give us a few lines? We are willing to pay you." His voice lowered in dynamic on the last sentence, as if it was a juicy secret he had just shared with Iwaizumi.

He rolled his eyes and pushed past the duo, making a discreetly desperate beeline for the office building. "I'm not interested," he said as he walked by, just to make sure they got the message.

He heard a frustrated growl behind him but didn't stick around to find out what he said. When the doors closed he breathed a sigh of relief when a glance behind him revealed that they were making no attempt to follow him inside. He walked up to the secretary's desk, wiping away some sweat that had beaded on his forehead with one of his wrists.

"What was all that about?" Michimiya asked curiously as she pulled the clipboard filled with scrawled names out for him. It was company policy for everybody to sign in when they arrived. "You're the first one here, as usual. You should really consider sleeping in one of these days, you know."

Iwaizumi smiled at her, a genuine smile this time, and shook his head. "Too much work to be done. I can't afford sleeping in. Those people were nothing. Don't worry about them." He quickly scrawled his name down in the blank and scribbled in a quick time and date. "But don't let them in the building if they ask to be let in," he quickly added with an apologetic smile.

"Got it," she assured him as she took back the clipboard from him and assessed what he had written. "Don't overwork yourself today!" she added as he began to walk toward his office door.

"No promises!" he called back with a wave.

He heard a peal of laughter from behind him and smiled to himself. She was such a sweetheart.

* * *

"Hey Hajime-san! I see you're hard at work already!" Daichi called from the doorway, jarring Iwaizumi out of his work. He pushed his glasses up and waved at his friend, beckoning for him to come in.

"What's up?" he asked. Daichi didn't usually interrupt him from his work unless he was working past his release time. He tended to lose himself in it when he got into the zone, and with no distractions would work past closing time. One time he got himself locked inside the building. He didn't like to remember that, though.

Daichi stepped up to his desk and sunk into the cushy chair across from Iwaizumi that was set there for his occasional meetings with authors. "I was curious about the people outside the building. They were asking if you had said anything to me about a celebrity..." he trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

Iwaizumi groaned and covered his face with his hands, leaning back in his chair. "I thought they would be gone by now."

"What's that about? I haven't heard anything about this 'chance celebrity encounter' from you!" He mocked offense, putting his hands on his hips and creasing his brows.

Iwaizumi shook his head, leaning forward so his hands were under his chin and he was supported by his elbows on his desk. "Oikawa Tooru barged into my apartment. There's not much to tell. Those interviewers have been bugging me since the weekend."

Daichi's eyes clouded in concern. "Are they harassing you? I can do something about it if they you're being bothered."

Iwaizumi smiled comfortingly. "Don't worry about it. If they do anything harmful, I can take care of myself. And Oikawa-san's manager gave me a number to call if things get out of hand."

Daichi frowned. "I worry about you, you know. You gotta give yourself some slack one of these days."

"You shouldn't. I'm fine. I keep telling you guys," he insisted.

Daichi smiled bitterly. "You'll never learn, will you?" He got up from the chair and pushed it back into the desk. He began to walk out before he turned around at the doorway, leaning against it. "You do have to tell me about this meeting you had with Oikawa Tooru during lunch break. I'm dying to know. Or right now. That would be pretty cool too." He had an easy smile on his face and Iwaizumi grinned back at him despite himself.

"Shoo."

Daichi put his hands up in submission and walked out of the room without closing the door, an amused glint in his eye.

Iwaizumi was going to kill him one day.

* * *

Throughout the next few days the lady and her new partner in crime began to turn up at either his apartment or work every morning with some question to ask him that 'fans were dying to know'. They continued to bother his coworkers and before the week was over, he was fed up with it. He woke up today with the intention to send them away for good, and he was determined to see this through to the end.

"Good morning, Susan," he greeted the short woman with a fake smile, quickly shutting his apartment and locking it. "And you too, Steve. How have you two been since yesterday?"

Their thoughts seemed to stop in their tracks at his seemingly friendly greeting. "W-we're doing pretty okay today. We need to hear this scoop from you though. Are you finally willing to spill the beans? Tell us what exactly was Oikawa Tooru was doing at your house?" She leaned forward in hope, and Iwaizumi almost felt sorry for her. She was most likely being forced to come here every day by whatever company she worked for, most likely until she got a headline for them. And he was definitely not being cooperative. But, he reminded himself, it wasn't his job to make her life easier. He lived for himself, not others. Especially not others who brought unneeded problems to his life.

"I hate to let you down, but no. And I can promise you that I am not going to 'spill the beans' anytime in the near future. There is nothing I can say. It was a 2 second encounter that ended before it began. I refuse to tell you anything. So if you would please leave me alone in the future, I would appreciate that greatly." He flicked his hand at them in a dismissive gesture and nearly missed when the man, who had been oddly silent during this entire exchange, stepped forward to loom over Iwaizumi.

This man was tall. And Iwaizumi was... not. And judging by those muscles, in a physical fight this guy would at least be a formidable opponent. Not one to be underestimated.

"Now, Iwaizumi Hajime. We have been doing some investigating... And let's just say we know a secret of yours that could have you with one less job than you currently have."

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow at that. One less job? He only HAD one job. Ohhhh. That was a threat. "What secret would that be? I can't recall anything that would cause me to lose my job."

The man risked taking another step forward, so his nose was nearly brushing the hairs on the top of Iwaizumi's head. "Well, even if you didn't lose your job, you would certainly lose the respect of your coworkers."

Iwaizumi's eyebrow raised even further, if at all possible.

"We saw you leaving a bar with another man, of all things. And then you went to a hotel. That could only mean so many things, Iwaizumi-san."

Oh. That. All his friends knew he was gay, so he wasn't too worried about this guy following through on his threats of 'spreading the rumor' or whatever. He was interested to see how far this guy was willing to go to get Iwaizumi to bend, though. Maybe he should be running in the other direction, but he was feeling rather confrontational this fine morning.

"I see you found that out. Damn. I'm horrified." He crossed his arms across his chest, matching this opposing man's pose.

"Steve!" called the other interviewer, who was standing several paces away and beginning to shuffle on her feet nervously. "Maybe we should stop here..."

Iwaizumi smirked. He could practically hear the other guy growling like a dog.

"Look, guys, I have to get to work, but I'll talk to you later. Or maybe I won't?" He smiled politely again and walked down his balcony without waiting for a reply.

After a quick drive to work since he was running late, he parked and rushed into the office where some workers were already starting to sign in. Daichi was among them. Iwaizumi grabbed his arm and dragged him out of line to stand in the corner of the room where others wouldn't be able to hear them.

After the initial shock and adrenaline had worn off, he began to feel increasingly alarmed about what had just occurred . These interviewers were willing to blackmail him to get a headline. They were really that desperate. And if they were going to do something illegal, who knew what 'line' they would stop at? He didn't want to find out.

"What the hell? I was about to sign in! Now I'll have to go the back of the line again!" Daichi complained.

Iwaizumi shook his head sternly at him. "Not the time. I just got blackmailed."

Daichi's eyes widened to saucers and his playful demeanor dropped immediately, his muscles becoming taut and his fists tightening. "What? By who? By those interviewers? How? What are they using against you?"

"Yeah, it was those paparazzi assholes. They threatened to spread rumors that I'm gay around the office." He smirked at that, despite himself.

Daichi didn't, though. "That's a huge deal, Hajime-san."

He nodded, his smile dropping. "I'm just afraid of what they might resort to to get a story out of me."

"I'm gonna start walking you to and from the office until this whole thing blows over, okay?"

"That's really not necessary," he grimaced.

"Yes, Hajime-san, this is necessary. I don't want you kidnapped. And before you say that's not gonna happen, lemme tell you that it's happened before, and it will happen again." Daichi's stern expression reminded Iwaizumi of his father. Creepy.

He considered pushing back more but decided to give in, knowing how stubborn Daichi could be if he wanted to be. "Alright. As long as you're okay with getting up at 4:30. I won't wait for you if you're late."

Daichi winced but stood firm. "Your safety is more important than my precious sleep. I don't know if Suga will forgive me, though." Sugawara was Daichi's roommate, and Iwaizumi was almost positive he was a little more than that too.

"Well, I'm going to go ahead and call this company to ask for their help in dealing with this. It's gone on long enough."

His friend nodded and left for his office and he did the same.

Up at his desk, he dug through his papers that he kept neatly stored in dividers at his desk for the sheet of paper the manager had given him. He dialed in the number on the paper and waited for the ringing to begin. He grabbed for a pen and paper as it rung in case he had to write anything down. She answered in the middle of the third ring.

"Noriko speaking, manager of Oikawa Tooru. State your name and business." Her voice was cold as it was when he first met her. It didn't faze him. He was used to dealing with people like her from his line of work.

"Hello, this is Iwaizumi Hajime. I am the man whose house Oikawa-san visited a month ago. I'm calling to request some type of help about a pair of interviewers who have been harassing me for the past week."

"Oh! Nice to speak with you, Iwaizumi-san. Thank you for calling. We'll be glad to get this sorted out. I was expecting something like this to happen. Oikawa-san has been worried sick." She chuckled. It was crazy how quickly her business-like demeanor shifted to something a bit more friendly, and he dropped his facade with her.

"Oikawa-san has been worried about me, eh? I never would have thought." He smirked. "I wasn't going to call you unless the harassment became unmanageable, but, well, it did."

She cleared her throat. "Good. Can you describe your interactions with these people?"

He began to tell her about how it started with visits to his house and questions to his coworkers and escalated to daily visits and finally threats. She stayed silent as he spoke, humming every once in a while, and he could hear the scratching of pencil on paper.

"Okay. May we be able to set up a personal meeting to get all the facts straight? Your right, this does seem to be getting out of hand. And from what you've told me, we me able to take them to court. Get them out of the business for a while, at least."

"Of course. That would be great," he agreed.

There was a rustling of papers over the line. "Okay, well I will leave you a voicemail with the details once I look over my and Oikawa-san's schedule. Thanks again for calling me, and for not giving into the pressure and giving them something to scandalize Oikawa-san over." She sounds a bit relieved, not that I can blame her.

"No problem. Talk to you later." He put down his phone and blew out a breath of air between his lips. Finally this would be over with.

Now it was time for him to actually get some work done.

* * *

He slammed his laptop shut and grinned to himself. He was finally done for the day. A glance at his watch revealed that it was just around closing time, which was perfect for him. Michimiya wouldn't harass him for as long today about giving himself a break. It seemed to be all anyone ever wanted to talk to him about, lately. He packed up his supplies quickly and locked his office door before walking to the lobby, where some of the stragglers were saying their final farewells to each other. Unfortunately, Iwaizumi wasn't close to very many of the other workers at his company because he was holed away in his office most of the time, so he only had to say a few goodbyes before exiting. Daichi was always urging him to branch out and befriend more people, but being completely honest, Iwaizumi was content with the friendships he had. He didn't need hundreds of people in his life to know that he was secure in his position and he was confident enough to not have to be talking to someone every moment of every day.

"Hey! Hajime-san, wait up!" Daichi's voice rang through the room and Iwaizumi halted on his path toward the door. "We already agreed that I was going to accompany you home for now!" Daichi scolded, rushing forward so he could face Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi's eyes widened. He had completely forgotten. "Oh yeah, man. Sorry."

Daichi shook his head and gave Iwaizumi a gentle push forward on the shoulder. "You're lucky I saw you walking out, anyway."

Iwaizumi started walking again and Daichi was just a step behind him. "Nothing's going to happen, you know."

"It's better to be safe than sorry. It's not like you to be so childish about important things like this." Daichi sounded genuinely disappointed in him.

Iwaizumi sighed and glanced back at his friend. "I agree with what you're trying to say. I'm just being difficult. Sorry."

Iwaizumi pulled out his keys and unlocked the car and climbed in, waiting for Daichi to step around the car and get in. He was a bit surprised that the duo freak show hadn't showed up to greet him on his way out of work, but then again, considering their last interaction they may have been using some time to regroup and come up with a different 'strategy'. Or something.

"So how are we going to do this?" he finally asked after a long moment of silence.

Daichi chewed at his lower lip for a few seconds before speaking. "Maybe you can drive to your house and then I can borrow your bike to get home?"

Iwaizumi contemplated this. "You better not be late. And bring your own bike to my house, tomorrow too, because I plan to ride my bike to work."

The brunette scratched his head and slumped back into the leather seat. "You're a pushy guy, you know that?"

"Yup," came the swift, finalizing reply.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, with the soft hum of the radio in the background. When he pulled into the apartment's parking lot, it was just beginning to get dark; around 6 o'clock. Daichi pulled out his phone to text someone, most likely Suga, and Iwaizumi swept his eyes over the property to make sure it was safe before he got out. It didn't look like the interviewers were anywhere to be seen, to his relief, and so he got out, making sure to quickly lock his doors once Daichi too exited the vehicle.

"Well, thanks for accompanying me home. You can get my bike out of my apartment real fast then leave. I need some alone time," he ordered.

Daichi smiled at him. "Fair enough."

He followed Iwaizumi up to the apartment and grabbed the bike and left, as promised. No celebrity gurus in sight. Thank god.

He locked his door and started pulling some vegetables and lettuce out of the fridge for a salad and was beginning to slowly strip of his work clothes when a loud series of raps on the door snapped him out of his daze. He shook his head and slowly set down the wooden spoon he was holding, before making his way to the door. After a moment to collect himself and prepare himself for a possible attack, (after all, who would knock on his door this late?) he opened the door to reveal Oikawa Tooru in all his tall, toned glory. Iwaizumi had to swallow past the lump in his throat as he took in the image before him.

Oikawa was donning an odd looking wooden pair of shades and a dorky baseball cap pushed low over his face. Perhaps this was the celebrity's attempt at a disguise.

"Hey there, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa held out a peace sign in front of his face and a playful smile pushed across his face as he stepped inside Iwaizumi's apartment.

After a few moments of gawking, Iwaizumi finally gathered himself enough to close and lock the door behind the tall man and turned to confront him. "Why are you at my house?" It came out a bit more strained than he was intending, but he decided not to justify his tone.

Oikawa plopped down onto Iwaizumi's plush sofa, groaning as the cushions slowly sank to accommodate his weight. "Miss Manager let me know that some asshole has been bothering you. I couldn't help but feel _terribly_ guilty. After all, you are but a loyal fan, who has done nothing to deserve this type of treatment." He sighed dramatically, fanning his face with a cupped hand.

Iwaizumi's hands tightened into fists at his sides in annoyance. "Excuse me? I was never a 'loyal fan' of yours, so let's get that straight. I've seen you, like, twice, maybe, on TV, and I can pin your name to your face, but I am _not_ some crazy fan who was dying to meet you. I'm beginning to wish I hadn't met, you, at this point." He couldn't help the rude words from spilling out of his mouth in a flash of anger, but he immediately regretted saying it at the brief flash of hurt that crossed Oikawa's face.

It was quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout, and Oikawa shook his head slowly, as if in scolding. "How rude, Iwa-chan. I even took all this time to come out and give you my personal phone number. Think of it as a 'sorry-gift'."

"Why would I need your number, exactly?" Eyes narrowed slightly.

Oikawa's confident grin merely widened. "Like, a damsel in distress type deal. You get in trouble, you can always contact me and I'll come to your rescue."

Iwaizumi's jaw dropped. He found his voice wouldn't come to him, no matter how hard he tried to speak.

"What is it? Are you swooning?" Oikawa leaned in closer, fluttering his thick eyelashes and really, just making it harder for Iwaizumi to come to his senses.

He swallowed hard, and finally, he found he could talk again. "No, I'm not swooning. I just am finally realizing how much of an asshole you really are."

Oikawa jerked back, as if stung by Iwaizumi's words. "I'm offended! How could you say such a thing? I really am floored by your lack of appreciation for my beauty and elegance!"

"Can I make my dinner, or are you going to stop me from doing that, too?" Iwaizumi asked dryly.

The celebrity's eyes widened in worry and rapidly shook his head. "Of course I wouldn't stop you from eating dinner! Just let me give you my number and I'll be on my way." He paused for a minute, fiddling with the edge of his shirt before continuing. "Now listen close, Iwa-chan, because I'm only going to tell you this once. I feel bad, genuinely, okay? I wish you didn't have to go through all this crap because of me. I'd feel a lot better if you had my number just in case, okay? You can delete once this is all sorted out, but it'd put me at peace of mind to know that you could contact me in an emergency. Is that alright with you?"

The look in his eye was so serious Iwaizumi had to pause for a moment and take it in, because it was mindblowing. It looked nothing like the serious Oikawa Tooru he had seen on the television screen time and time again. This was the true Oikawa, through and through. And the light in his eye was brilliant.

Silently, he handed his phone over to those long thin waiting fingers that Iwaizumi desperately longed to reach out and grasp in his own, and he watched Oikawa's brow furrow in concentration as he squinted against the harsh artificial light of the phone.

Something about Oikawa was special. Maybe he should have figured that out already, though.

* * *

Oh my gosh there was so much dialogue in this chapter. And I suck at dialogue. I am so sorry I put you through that. I need to rethink my entire writing style. Also japanese honorifics are not my forte, so if you see anything that looks weird, don't hesitate to tell me.

Bear with me... I'm slowly thinking of small details to add to this plot. Which you can influence, by the way. If you want to see anything in particular, please ask me in my ask box on tumblr or in the comments/reviews and I might be able to add it in.

(I mean more like types of romantic scenes or certain situations as opposed to the plot of the entire fic, as I'd like to think of that myself, thank you very much ;))

For announcements and updates: shanbluefanfiction . tumblr . com

Main blog: rolling-thunders . tumblr . com


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